Eight Maids
by amythis
Summary: Baseball player Tony Micelli does a commercial for the ad agency Angela Bower works for and soon becomes her tenant. As time passes, Angela has to keep replacing her housekeepers.
1. Pitchman

"Tony, I didn't expect you back so soon!"

He waited till she was done hugging him to say, "Yeah, Mrs. Rossini, I didn't plan to come back for another month, when we play the Mets, but I'm gonna be a pitchman."

"I thought you played second base," Joe Rossini joked.

"Very funny. No, I'm gonna do a commercial in Manhattan and I figured why not take a few days off, see Sam and everybody."

"Does Sam know?" Mrs. Rossini asked.  
"No, it's a surprise."

It had come as a surprise to him, too. He'd been in St. Louis, playing the Cubs, celebrating his birthday, when he got the offer. A big ad agency was doing a deodorant commercial and their spokesman had to drop out due to a minor scandal, women or betting, Tony wasn't sure. Anyway they needed an athlete to fill in as soon as possible and Coach suggested him. In a way, Tony was flattered, but it also meant that he thought Tony was the easiest to spare. Still, Tony always tried to look on the bright side of things. It'd be a chance to go home and a chance to make a little extra money. Plus it sounded fun and he didn't have any lines to memorize, since there would be an offscreen narrator.

"Well, she should be home from school soon."

Sam had been staying with the Rossinis while Tony was on the road. It was the first year his father couldn't look after her. It had been over four months since Christmas, but Tony still couldn't believe it. He wasn't ready to stop paying rent on Pop's apartment, because that would mean really staying goodbye.

He wished he didn't have to leave Sam for weeks, sometimes months at a time but it was part of his job. At least he knew she was safe and happy with the Rossinis, old family friends.

Then Sam came home with a black eye.

"Samantha, have you been fighting again?" Mrs. Rossini cried.

"Again?" Tony said.

Sam shrugged. "It's no big deal. And you fought when you were a kid, right, Dad?"

He wanted to say that it was different for him. He'd been a boy. And the neighborhood wasn't as rough then. But he didn't know what to say in front of the Rossinis. He'd discuss this with Sam when they got back to their apartment.

...

Angela was feeling very stressed. Yes, they had another athlete lined up for the next day's shoot but they'd almost lost the account. She'd never heard of the replacement, Tony something, but she didn't follow sports. All she knew was that he was available on short notice, and that was what mattered most.

Some of her stress came from her home situation. Mrs. Hiller was a terrible housekeeper. Well, no, she was good at keeping house but she was making it less of a home. Jonathan was afraid of her, and frankly so was Angela. Mother called her "Mrs. Hitler." Angela would've fired her, but one, she was too scared to, and two, she was afraid of getting someone even worse, or no one. Angela was not domestic herself and she didn't have time for it anyway.

And some of the stress came from Grant Paxson. She knew it was risky dating her boss, but he was handsome, charming, and successful. And Angela had been lonely since Michael left. She'd filed for divorce but hadn't heard back from him yet. She was still technically married, well, separated. So that was another reason why she hesitated about sleeping with Grant. If people found out, it would ruin her career. Even dining and dancing was risky. But she accepted for that evening. Dancing would relieve some stress, and dining out would mean one less meal at home.

Of course that meant poor Jonathan would spend the evening with Mrs. Hiller. Well, maybe Mother could take him out for fast food. Mother was even less domestic than Angela. They had housekeepers when Angela grew up, and she could count on the fingers of one hand the meals her mother had cooked.

Angela knew there were people who survived without servants, but she was glad she wasn't one of them. And it would've felt funny in her posh Fairfield, Connecticut neighborhood, even if she wanted to try. Well, there were days with Mrs. Hiller where she was tempted.

...

The shoot went smoothly, even though Tony Micelli was inexperienced before any camera other than a sports camera. He was down-to-earth, cheerful, and funny, with a warm smile. He was also what Mother would call a hunk, more than the athlete he'd replaced, so Angela was very glad her mother knew nothing about this. Not that Tony was Angela's type, but she couldn't deny to herself that he was good-looking.

Tony felt a little silly shooting the commercial, since it was mostly him acting out playing various sports, not just baseball but also boxing, since he admitted that he'd boxed a little. (He didn't say that he'd lost his one fight, as a teenager.) He also jogged, swung a tennis racket, and kicked a soccer ball. Then he had to strip off his shirt and put on the deodorant. He smiled all the way through. Hopefully this would look less silly with editing and the voiceover.

He was a little sweaty at the end, despite the deodorant. He was also tired and hungry. He went over to what he remembered as "the craft services table." But it had been picked pretty clean.

"Sorry about that. I think the crew got the munchies."

He turned and saw the lady from the ad agency. She was a tall, thin blonde in a power suit, shoulder pads and the whole deal. He was definitely not in the Brooklyn part of New York.

"That's OK," he said. "I should probably get a real lunch, not snacks."  
"Would you like me to treat you?"

"Treat me?" Was she hitting on him? She wasn't really his type, although she was cute.

"Yes, I know a wonderful restaurant a block away. And I can write it off since this is work-related."  
"Oh, well, as long as Uncle Sam's paying."

She chuckled and then blushed, seeming to have realized he was still shirtless.

"Uh, I guess it's no shirt, no shoes, no service, huh?"

"Actually, they'll expect a tie and jacket. But you can borrow something from the wardrobe department."

"Uh, thanks." He hadn't dressed up because he'd been told to look athletic. He wondered if he thought she didn't even own a tie and jacket. But the snob was offering him a free meal, so he'd ignore the offense.

...

To their surprise, Tony and Angela ended up bonding during lunch, over single parenthood. Well, Angela didn't mention that Michael was still her husband, since it wasn't like he was around much, always off in exotic locales filming documentaries. Poor Tony had lost his wife a few years ago. And he seemed so young, although he must've been about Angela's age, since he had an eleven-year-old daughter, whom he clearly adored.

"...She's so smart. But I worry about her. It's not easy for her with me on the road half the year. And I wish we lived in a better neighborhood."

"Have you thought about moving out of Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, but it's been our home so long. And it's not like there are nice affordable neighborhoods elsewhere in the City."  
"Well, no. Maybe you should move to Connecticut," she joked.

"Is that where you live? You and, uh, Jonathan?" She'd said she had a seven-year-old son. Tony wasn't really used to working mothers, at least not ones with high-powered careers like hers. He wondered who was looking after the kid. He doubted she was surrounded by neighbors like the Rossinis.

"Yes, in Fairfield."

"Yeah? You know any places to rent?"

"Well, it's mostly houses, with the owners in them."  
"Oh, of course."  
"Well, there is my garage," she joked.

"Yeah? Would there be room for me and Sam next to your two cars?"  
"Oh, I just have one." She wasn't sure if he was teasing. "But I meant the space above the garage. The people before Mich— me had a chauffeur who lived up there. Of course it would need a lot of fixing up."

"I can imagine."

She glanced at her watch. "Oh, I've got to get back to the office. It was nice chatting with you, Mr. Micelli."  
"You, too, Ms. Bower." He was careful to use "Ms." rather than "Mrs." He didn't know if Bower was her married or maiden name. And he figured a career woman would prefer to be called "Ms."

As Angela paid the bill with her work credit card, she found it ironic that it would be easier to find a tenant than a new housekeeper, if she were looking for the former. But Mr. Micelli of course understood she was joking. The last thing she needed in her life was a complication like him. She could imagine how her mother would react if Tony moved onto the property, to say nothing of Grant. Or Mrs. Hiller!


	2. Agreements and Disagreements

When the doorbell rang the next morning, Angela had to answer it although she was just out of the shower. Mrs. Hiller always claimed that answering doors was a butler's job and she was busy enough cleaning the house and cooking the meals. And Jonathan was busy playing with his snake. (A gift from Michael, the last time he was home. Michael thought that gifts made up for his absences, and poor Jonathan never complained, as much as he missed his father.)

Angela did ask Jonathan to see who was at the door, but all he did was peek through the curtains and report that it was some man. Angela had her hair in a towel that matched her pink robe but she had no choice but to go downstairs. Mrs. Hiller wouldn't leave the kitchen while she was making breakfast and Jonathan apparently wouldn't open the door.

To her surprise, Tony Micelli was on her doorstep.

"Hey, sorry to drop by without calling first."

"How did you know where I live?"  
"I asked your secretary. I said you'd told me it was Fairfield but forgot to tell me the exact address."

She was going to have to have a talk with Rosie, who was probably dazzled by Tony's looks and charm. He did seem like a nice guy, but what was he doing at her home?

"If this is about the commercial, I'd really prefer to discuss it at the agency."  
"No, it's about the apartment."  
"The apartment?"

"The one over the garage. I thought it over and it would be great to get Sam out of the city. And this is a very pretty town."  
"Well, thank you. But I was just kidding about renting to you."  
"Oh."  
"I thought you knew that."  
"Would I be here if I did?"  
"Mommy, who's at the door?"

"Hey, is that your kid?"

"Uh, yes, please come in." Even though he wasn't an invited guest, she couldn't leave him standing on her doorstep, especially considering what a gossipy neighborhood this was.

"Thanks. Gee, I'm really sorry about this."  
"Never mind."  
"Mommy, do you know this man?"  
"Um, sort of. Jonathan, this is Tony Micelli. He did a commercial for me yesterday. Tony, this is Jonathan."

Tony came over, knelt, and shook hands with Jonathan. "Nice to meet you. Hey, cool snake."  
"Thank you. That's Wilbur. My daddy gave him to me."

"Mrs. Bower, did you invite someone for breakfast without telling me?" Mrs. Hiller was standing in the kitchen doorway, looking sterner than usual.

"Thanks," Tony said cheerfully, "but I already ate before the drive."  
"Uh, Mr. Micelli, why don't I show you the garage?" She felt like she couldn't deal with all three people, and Wilbur, at once.

"Yeah, sure."

She led him out the door at the back of the living room rather than through the kitchen and past Mrs. Hiller. She wished she were wearing more clothes, but fewer neighbors would be able to see her than at the front of the house.

"Great house."  
"Thank you."  
"Uh, so are you gonna rent the garage to me after all?"  
"No, I just wanted to get you alone." He raised his eyebrows and she blushed. "I mean away from my son and my housekeeper."  
"That's your housekeeper?"  
"Unfortunately, yes." She led him across the driveway and up the stairs to the space above the garage. "We can talk in here." She opened the door and saw that the place was more run down than she remembered.

"This will need fixing up."  
"I, this is crazy, I'm actually considering renting to you."  
"Aw, you just feel sorry for me driving all this way."

"No, it's not just that. You seem very nice."  
"I am very nice."

"The thing is, besides needing to be fixed up, there's really only one bedroom, on the next floor up."  
"Well, I'll be on the road most of the next six months."  
"But what about after?"

"I could sleep in the living room. I'm used to that."

"Well, maybe I could convert the sewing room into a bedroom for your daughter. And that way she'd be able to go to the local elementary school before the apartment is fixed up. Of course, I don't know where you'd stay."

"I'll stay with friends in Brooklyn when I'm playing in New York or have time off. You'll have this apartment done by the time of the World Series, right?"  
"When is that?"

"Usually October." He looked amused at her sports ignorance.

"Oh, yes. No problem. Will your team be playing?"  
"Uh, it's a little early to be sure."  
"Of course." She shook her head. "This is so crazy. I hardly know you and we haven't discussed rent or anything."  
He shrugged. "Whatever you think is fair. Charge me less when it's just Sam renting a room."

"Of course."

"And if it ends up not working out, well, Sam will at least have gotten some fresh air for a few weeks or months. And you could always rent this apartment to someone else, right?"

"Yes, I suppose." It wasn't like she needed the money. She couldn't explain that she wanted him around. It wasn't that she was interested in him. It was more that it would be good to have a more pleasant adult to talk to than Mrs. Hiller. Of course, Tony wouldn't be around much till October. But maybe that would make Grant accept the situation more, if they were still involved in the Fall.

Yes, the neighbors would gossip, and she had no idea what Michael would say when he found out. But maybe Tony being a single dad would make the situation look as innocent as it was. It wouldn't be like she was renting to a swinging bachelor. And it wouldn't be like Tony would be living in the main house.

"You'll have your own privacy of course. You can come and go as you please."  
"Thanks." He sounded amused again.

"I mean, of course you can visit Sam in my house. But you and I will be living separate lives."  
"Yeah, I figured."

"And of course you'll be on the road with your job while I'm— Oh, gosh, I'm going to miss my train into the City!"

"I can drive you down. I happen to be going back to the City."

"That's very kind of you."  
"No problem. You should be able to get dressed and have breakfast with time to spare."  
"Oh, I don't really eat breakfast. Just juice and coffee."

"Is the housekeeper that bad a cook?"  
"No, it's just I'm not really a breakfast person."  
"It's the most important meal of the day."  
"I'll get pastries at work."  
He looked like he wanted to scold her, but he just said, "OK."

When they went back to the house, Mrs. Hiller was standing in the living room with her arms crossed. Jonathan and Wilbur had left the room.

"Mrs. Bower, your son informs me that you're going to be renting the space over the garage to this man. Is that true?" Mrs. Hiller glared at Tony.

Scared as Angela was of Mrs. Hiller, she decided to hold her ground. "As a matter of fact, it is."

"Mrs. Bower, when I started working here, you said that it would only be you and your son that I would have to look after."  
This was also true. Angela hired her after Michael left and Angela decided to divorce him.

"Hey, you don't have to look after me," Tony said. "I can clean the apartment when I'm home. And there's a kitchen so I can cook for me and Sam when I'm not on the road."  
"Who the devil is Sam?" Mrs. Hiller demanded, looking pretty devilish herself. "Mrs. Bower, are you going to be living with two men?"

"No, Samantha is his eleven-year-old daughter."  
"And she's a real easy kid to take care of," Tony said.

"You expect me to look after two children? On my salary?"

Angela realized this was her golden opportunity. Mrs. Hiller would quit and Angela wouldn't have to get up the courage to fire her. "Is there a problem?" Angela said icily.

"Yes, I demand a raise! One hundred dollars more a month."

"Oh." It wasn't even an unreasonable demand. Angela couldn't really say no. "Yes, fine." Not that it was about the money, and Tony's rent would cover it. If only Mrs. Hiller had asked for enough that firing her, or convincing her to quit, would've worked.

"Fine. Do you want your juice and coffee now?"  
"Uh, no, I'd better get dressed so that Tony, Mr. Micelli can take me to the train station."

"What about Jonathan?" Tony asked.

"He's already had his Crunchy Crawlers," Mrs. Hiller said with a sniff.

Tony made a face and Angela wondered if Tony knew that that was a brand of cereal. It did sound more like something Wilbur would eat. Then Tony said, "I meant doesn't he need to get to school? Or do you take him?"

"I'm not the chauffeur!" Mrs. Hiller said indignantly.

"Tony, would you mind if we dropped him off on our way?" Angela asked.

"Hey, no problem. Where is he?"

"He's upstairs with that hideous snake."

Angela felt like defending Wilbur. He wasn't her favorite housemate, but she certainly preferred him to Mrs. Hiller. However, it had already been a stressful morning. "Tony, Jonathan and I will be down in a few minutes."  
"Great, I'll go wait in the van."  
The van? Well, it would certainly be different than driving around in her Jaguar.


	3. Apartments

"Thanks again, Tony."  
"No, thank you, uh, Ms. Bower."  
"Please call me Angela."  
"OK. Thanks, Angela. Uh, I'll be in touch and we can work out a move-in date."  
"Sounds good. See you soon."

She got out of the van carefully, as if she weren't used to vans, especially when she was wearing a power suit. She did it in as dignified a way as she could. He hid his amusement.

They waved before he drove off. He wasn't sure if he should've waited till she was inside the Wallace & McQuade building. Or maybe he should've helped her out of the van. It was hard to know what the etiquette was for this unusual situation.

It hadn't been too awkward on the drive down. It was fine on the way to the elementary school. He and Jonathan hit it off and he was already looking forward to getting to know the kid better when the season was over. He hoped Sam would get along with Jonathan. He was about four and a half years younger and a boy, and not like the boys Sam was used to. Jonathan was nerdy and not tough. But maybe that would do Sam good to have a sort of little brother to protect and look after.

Tony wished he could go in and take a look at the school, but he didn't want to make Angela late for work. He asked her questions about the school and she sounded very positive, although she wasn't crazy about the current PTA President. But the teachers and classes sounded good.

Tony envied Angela for going to college. She seemed to take it as a given that Jonathan would go, although that was a decade away. He definitely hoped he could send Sam.

He wondered if Angela looked down on him for not having much education. No one in the sports world cared of course. They might mock his Brooklyn accent, but that was a regional thing, not a class thing. Well, Tony was proud of where he came from, but he also knew that there was a world beyond Pitkin Avenue.

And now he was heading back, to talk to Sam and to Mrs. Rossini. He had told Sam that he was thinking about moving them out of Brooklyn, because he didn't want it to come as too much of a shock. And if she absolutely hated the idea, he'd drop it. But when she heard about Fairfield (not that Tony had ever been there before that morning, but he knew a little about the New England countryside from his travels with the team), she said it sounded great.

"Yeah, I'll miss Brooklyn in some ways, but I'd like to live in the country. And it'll be good for you, Dad."  
He'd smiled. "Me?"

"Yeah, a place you can unwind, get away from it all, in the off season."

He'd been amused, but she was right. Of course, he wasn't sure how relaxing he'd find it with a Type A landlady and a scary housekeeper. But Angela was right that he'd have his own place and his own life, so it wouldn't be like he was living with Angela and Mrs. Hiller. They'd be more like neighbors.

Sam was at school when he got back to Brooklyn, so he'd talk to her later. He hoped she'd be cool about Mrs. Hiller. Sam would probably say, "Hey, have you seen some of the nuns at my school?"

He went over to Mrs. Rossini's. Sometimes she worked in the family fish-shop, but she was home when he dropped by, and Joe and Joe Jr. were out, so that was good. Joe, Sr. was watching TV with the volume loud, but they could talk in the kitchen.

"So, Tony, how did the commercial turn out?"  
"Pretty good I guess. I won't get to see it till it airs."

"Well, considering someone in the family always has the TV on, I'm sure we'll see it."  
"Yeah, let me know what you think."

"I will. So when do you have to get back on the road?"  
"Well, that's one thing I want to talk to you about. There's something I want to do before I rejoin the team."  
"Oh my Gawd, you're gettin' married again!"

"No, no, Mrs. Rossini, calm down. It's nothin' like that."  
"Then what? I can tell you've got some kind of news."  
"Well, I'm movin' in with a woman and—"

Mrs. Rossini covered her ears. "Please don't tell me nothin' more!"

He shook his head. "It's nothin' like that. Let me finish."  
She must've been able to hear him through her hands because she lowered them and said, "Go on."

"I'm going to be renting an apartment on the property of a woman who lives in Connecticut."  
"What woman?"  
"This woman I met at the ad agency. She's real nice. She's a single mom, well, divorced."  
"Not Catholic?"  
"Probably not."  
"Too bad."  
"Mrs. Rossini, it's nothin' like that. She'll just be my landlady. Mine and Sam's."  
"Does Sam know?"  
"I talked to her about it a little, yeah."  
Mrs. Rossini shook her head. "I don't see how you can leave New York, especially to live with strangers."

"I love New York, but I love Sam more."

"You think you'll be happier in Connecticut? Either of you?"  
"Well, I'd like to try. And, don't get me wrong, you've been great, lookin' after Sam all this time, but you know this neighborhood isn't safe anymore. And it's different now that my dad is gone."  
"Yeah, I know," she said quietly.

She was one of the people who knew how much losing his father had shook him up, although she didn't know about him still paying the rent on Pop's place. He'd already decided to keep doing that. He could stay there when he was in town, before the apartment in Fairfield was ready for him, and just tell Sam he was with friends. And it might be kind of comforting to be there. He could pretend his father was just away for the weekend or whatever, although Pop hardly ever went anywhere unless it was to see one of Tony's games.

She asked, "So when is this all happening?"

"Maybe the first of the month. We haven't worked out the details. But I do need to get back to the team by the 4th, because that's when our next home games are."

"So soon?"  
"Yeah. I want Sam to be able to go to school in Connecticut for a few weeks, instead of waiting till September."  
"Will you come back and visit? Both of you?"  
"Yeah. Probably not till the off season but we can come for Thanksgiving or something."  
"I'll make all your favorites."  
He thought of Angela and Jonathan having dinner with that awful housekeeper of theirs. Could he invite her to the Rossinis' or would that be crossing a line as a tenant? Well, Thanksgiving was almost seven months away. He'd worry about it then.


	4. Moves

Mona eagerly waited for the van to pull up on Tuesday afternoon. Angela wouldn't be back until late. She was going out to dinner with Grant after work. Mona had a mixed opinion about Grant. He was good-looking and very successful of course, but he was Angela's boss and that was a risky situation. Not that Mona had anything against risky situations for herself. She thrived on them. But Angela usually lived her life so cautiously.

Mona did prefer Grant to Michael, but then he'd had less chance to make mistakes with Angela. Mona was mostly happy about Angela's plans for divorce. Michael and Angela weren't right for each other, and he wasn't much of a husband or father. Or son-in-law. Maybe Angela shouldn't be dating during the separation, but she'd been alone too often in her life, and at least Grant distracted her.

And speaking of distraction, Mona had found out what this Tony Micelli fellow looked like, very hunky! Angela swore that that had nothing to do with why she'd suddenly decided on making an almost stranger into her tenant. She claimed that it had more to do with Tony's motherless daughter, who needed a better environment than Brooklyn. That might be true, but if Sam's mother was dead, then that meant that Tony was available.

When Mona asked, Angela said that no, she hadn't yet told Grant about her new tenants. She claimed it didn't really matter, although she might mention it if it came up in conversation, or if Grant came over and Angela had to introduce Samantha. Tony would be mostly on the road for the next five months.

And, no, Angela was not going to tell Michael. Michael didn't live there anymore, although Mona wasn't so sure Michael knew that. Mona thought that even Michael might take an interest in the family if a strange man was living with them.

OK, Tony would be in the loft over the garage, but did Angela honestly think Tony wouldn't want to spend time in the main house, especially with his daughter living there? And what if Tony and Angela became attracted to each other? It was in the realm of possibility, even if Angela refused to consider it. Never mind that it would be on everyone else's mind, Mona's especially.

She wished she could see Angela and Tony together, but that might not be for weeks or even months. Mona dropped by pretty often but she wouldn't know when Tony would be in town unless Angela told her. Which she probably wouldn't, because she seemed to think Mona was interested in Tony for herself. And after seeing his picture in _Sports Illustrated_ , she did think he could be good for a fling, but she could get a younger, good-looking man any time she wanted. She was more intrigued by the possibility of Tony with her daughter. Who, let's face it, needed a fling with a hunk far more than Mona did.

Tony was supposed to be back on the road, heading to St. Louis for the Cardinals' home games, the next day. He was moving Samantha and her possessions after school. And since Angela had given Mrs. Hitler twenty-four hours off, to make the move-in more bearable, that meant Mona had to be there to let Tony in and make him and Sam feel at home. She was happy to do so.

"Grandma, are they here yet?"

Ah, Jonathan was home. Good, she could pump him for information, since he had apparently met Tony and might've observed in his innocent way how Tony and Angela got along. "Not yet, Kiddo. So, are you excited about them moving in?"

"Well," Jonathan said with his baby-scientist's need for precision, "Tony won't be moving in here. He'll live above the garage after the World Series. But I think it'll be fun to have another kid around here, especially since it looks like I'm never going to have a brother or sister."

Mona wondered how much he knew about his parents' estrangement. There had been a time when Angela had wanted another baby, but she'd eventually told Mona that it was hard enough raising one child mostly on her own. Yes, Angela had housekeepers but that wasn't the same as having a fully involved partner.

"And Tony seems nice, so it will be good when he's here more."

"You like him, huh?"

"Yeah, he's funny and he listens."  
"Do you think your mom likes him?" Mona decided to be direct.

"Of course she does. She wouldn't ask him to live in the garage if she didn't. It's bad enough we have Mrs. Hiller."  
Mona realized that this was probably the best information she was going to get. She couldn't expect a little boy to notice romantic chemistry. He probably couldn't even imagine his parents kissing anyone but each other.

Then Mona heard a honk. She looked out the front window and saw the old blue van that Angela had described. It wasn't exactly what Mona would imagine a professional athlete to drive, but maybe Tony was frugal. After all, he'd been living in a little, run-down apartment in a bad neighborhood.

"Is it them?"

"I think so."

Jonathan joined her at the window and together they watched Tony and a preteen girl, both in baseball caps, get out of the van and then start loading up with boxes.

"Should we help them?" Jonathan asked.

Mona didn't want to risk breaking a nail, but it did seem like the neighborly thing to do.

So she and Jonathan went out to the van. Jonathan made the introductions, even though he'd never seen Sam before.

Sam said, "Hey, Kid, nice to meet you," and loaded him up with three boxes.

Tony took the top two boxes off and then they all went into the house. He was easy to talk to and Sam also seemed very friendly and outgoing. Mona liked the Micellis immediately. She thought their relaxed attitude would do Angela good, whether or not anything romantic happened with her and Tony.

With four of them, it didn't take long to unload the van, not that there was a lot of stuff in it. Angela had paid movers to take old furniture that was still in good shape out of the attic and down to the former sewing room. (Not that Angela ever sewed. And Mrs. Hitler claimed it wasn't her job.) The Brooklyn furniture would presumably be left there. So it was just Sam's clothes and toys and such. Tony presumably would leave his own possessions with friends till the apartment was ready. And Mona had the impression that Tony traveled pretty light.

"So what do you want for dinner tonight?" Tony asked when they were all done with the move and sitting around the living room.

Mona and her grandson looked at each other and then at Tony. She said, "You don't have to take us anywhere."  
Sam laughed. "Dad means what should he cook. Since the housekeeper ain't here."

"You cook?" Jonathan said, staring at Tony. He'd never met a man who could cook before.

Mona hadn't met too many herself. Maybe Tony was even more of a catch than she'd realized, although she was still thinking in terms of Angela.

"Yeah, he's the best!" Sam said.

"Well, not the best," Tony said modestly. "But I'm pretty good."  
"How about something Italian?" Mona suggested, in case that was all he knew. "Like spaghetti."  
"Yeah, I love pasghetti!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"Not much of a a challenge, but, yeah, OK. I'll check the kitchen to see if you've got the ingredients."  
Knowing Mrs. Hitler, Tony would be lucky to find margarine, let alone anything for sauce. He did end up going shopping, taking the kids along. Jonathan seemed to enjoy the novelty of that, since Mrs. Hitler would never take him to a grocery store, or anyplace else.

Meanwhile, Mona sat and plotted. Mrs. Hitler wouldn't be back till about noon the next day. Tony would have to catch his flight around then. Would he be heading back to Brooklyn? Was there a way to make him stay overnight? What time would Angela be home? She would have to work the next day, although if it was the boss keeping her out, she'd be less likely to be in trouble if she came in to work late. How could Mona get Tony and Angela to be in the house at the same time, with herself around, too? After all, she had her own apartment that Angela and everyone would expect her to get back to.

Well, she'd look for an opportunity. Maybe she'd luck out and Angela and Grant would make an early night of it. She could maybe get Tony to linger and then he'd still be around when Grant brought Angela home. Of course, that would be awkward if Angela asked Grant in, not knowing Tony was there. But Grant had to find out about Tony at some point, right? Why not that night?

The spaghetti was delicious. Jonathan was finicky, but he had no complaints about the dinner. The poor boy had been living on what Mrs. Hitler made, so it was nice to see him wolf down a meal for a change.

Tony had the kids help him do the dishes, even though Jonathan told him that they had a dishwasher.

"Hey, it's good practice. Sometimes machines break down. Humans need to be ready when they do."  
Jonathan looked puzzled but he did dry what Sam washed. Tony stacked the plates and cups, while Mona looked on and smiled. They looked like a family, not just the father and daughter, but the little boy, too. All that was missing was a mother. (And Mona was not the kind of person who usually had these sorts of sentimental thoughts. Maybe it was hanging out with Italians that did this to her.)

When the last dish was done, Sam said, "Dad, do you have to go back to Brooklyn tonight?"  
"Sweetheart, you know the garage apartment isn't ready yet. And won't be for awhile."

"Yeah, but you could sleep in my room. Mrs. Bower got me a really big bed."

"Gee, I don't know. I mean, Mrs. Bower might not want me to."  
"I'm sure Angela won't mind," Mona said, unable to believe her luck. "And she'll be out late tonight."  
"Yeah, Mom is working late in the City," Jonathan said. That was probably what Angela had told him.

"Well, OK. But, Sam Sweetheart, you're going to have to get used to living here without me."  
"I know. But it'll make it seem less weird if you're here the first night."

"OK. And I guess there should be an adult here with the housekeeper and Mrs. Bower gone."  
"Oh, I thought Grandma was going to stay," Jonathan said.

"You did?" Mona asked him, surprised that another piece was falling into place.

"Yeah, I thought you were going to babysit us till Mom gets home."

"Hey, I can watch the kids," Tony offered, "if you need to go."  
"I want Grandma. You can stay, too, Tony, but Grandma makes great chocolate sundaes."  
"Oo, chocolate sundaes!" Sam exclaimed. "Yeah, I want Mrs. Robinson to stay, too."

Tony looked at Mona and shrugged. "Well, I guess we're both babysitters tonight."  
The way he said it wasn't flirty. Was it possible that he wasn't at all attracted to Mona? Her ego was a little bruised, although that would make things easier. If she had had designs on him, well, she wouldn't try to seduce him with the kids in the house. But she might've laid down the groundwork tonight. Instead, she'd see if she could nudge him towards Angela before Angela even got home. Or at least find out if there was any possibility of something happening down the road.

The kids and Tony liked the chocolate sundaes. Then they all watched some TV, already moving into summer reruns although May had just started. The kids wanted to watch _Three's Company_ after _Happy Days,_ but Tony put his foot down. Mona didn't see any harm in a little innuendo but Tony said it was getting late. Sam argued that she should have a later bedtime than Jonathan, but he said they'd discuss that in the Fall.

Mona put Jonathan to bed while Tony said goodnight to Sam.

"So what do you think of the Micellis?" Mona asked.

"I like them," Jonathan said simply, but he soon drifted off.

Mona wasn't demonstrative with family, but she brushed back his bangs with her hand and kissed his forehead. Then she met Tony downstairs in the living room again.

"This is a really nice house," he said. "I think Sam will be really happy here."  
"And you?"

"Well, we'll see how the garage fix-up goes."  
She almost said, "And speaking of fix-ups, how would you like to be fixed up with my daughter?", but she had to play this more subtly. So instead she said, "You're lucky you're not living with Angela. She's not the easiest person to live with."  
"Yeah, she seems pretty high-strung. Nice but intense."  
"Yes. She takes after her father."  
"You seem more easygoing."  
"I'm much easier."  
He coughed. "Uh, I should probably get to sleep myself. I've got a flight tomorrow."  
"Right. Sleep well, Tony."  
"Uh, where are you sleeping?"

"Well, probably in Angela's room till she gets back." She assumed that Angela wouldn't invite Grant upstairs with Jonathan home, although that would make the night even more interesting.

"Oh." He looked down at the couch, as if hoping she'd sleep there.

"But first I'm going to watch TV." She turned on _Three's Company._

He chuckled. "Have fun."  
"I always do."


	5. May Day

Tony had trouble falling asleep. He had a lot on his mind, and Sam had stolen most of the blankets. He wondered what was going on with Mrs. Bower's mother. It did seem to be "Mrs." rather than "Ms." He wasn't yet comfortable calling her Angela.

Mrs. Robinson had definitely asked him to call her Mona. She seemed kind of flirty, although maybe it was just that she was less buttoned-up than her daughter. She was attractive for an older lady, and under other circumstances, like if he met her on the road, well, he could see having a fling or a one-night stand. But getting involved with his landlady's mother was a definite no-no. Mrs. Bower would probably kick him and Sam out before he even moved in.

He felt weird having Mrs. Robinson sleep just a few yards away, although she probably wouldn't try to seduce him while the kids were around. At least she wouldn't come to this bedroom. Sam was a good chaperone, even asleep.

Then he heard a knock and Mrs. Robinson saying, "Tony, are you awake?"

Great. He'd have to let her down gently, without Sam hearing anything. He sighed and went to the door in the sweat pants that he'd reluctantly borrowed. He'd told the kids he hadn't brought "jammies." He hadn't been expecting to stay over. He'd figured he'd head back to Brooklyn and maybe go to Marty's Melody Room. He'd prepare himself for some razzing about his move to Connecticut, but it would be good to see everyone. And then he'd sleep in Pop's apartment, not necessarily alone, especially if Teresa was working that night.

Anyway, he didn't have anything to sleep in here, so Mrs. Robinson offered him an old sweatsuit that she found in her daughter's room. She claimed Mrs. Bower wouldn't mind. Tony wasn't crazy about it, but he didn't have much choice. At least it was clean. He just wore the pants, since it was May 1st and kinda warm, although not as warm as he expected, with Sam hogging the covers.

Hopefully, Mrs. Robinson could control herself at the sight of his pecs and arms and everything. He went to the door and opened it a crack. "What's up?" he whispered.

"I thought I heard a noise downstairs."  
"It's probably Mrs. Bower coming home."

"No, I heard two voices, too."  
He was going to suggest that maybe Mrs. Bower had brought a date home, but that was hard to imagine. Not that she wasn't attractive enough, but she seemed the "married to her career" type and that was probably why her marriage to Jonathan's father hadn't worked out.

"Could you go look?"

He figured he should, just in case. If it was burglars or something, two kids and a lady like Mrs. Robinson would be defenseless. And he was the man of the house that night at least. Then he heard what sounded like something breaking.

He grabbed Sam's baseball bat, a little small for him but better than no weapon, and he raced downstairs as fast as if he was heading for home plate. No one was in the living room, so he dashed into the kitchen. And he found a man lying on top of Mrs. Bower, kissing her!

"Hey, hey, hey! What's goin' on?" he yelled as he pulled the man off of Mrs. Bower and to his feet.

Tony would've hit the guy with the bat but Mrs. Bower said, "Tony! No, don't, Tony! He's my date!"

"Your date? I thought you were being attacked! What are you doing rollin' around on the floor?"

She claimed that they were picking up a broken plate together, which sounded dubious to Tony.

The man, who had a suit and tie and prematurely gray hair, asked, "Angela, who is this?"

"Well, Grant, you're not going to believe this, but this is my new tenant."

"Your tenant? I thought you said you just lived with your son and housekeeper since your husband left."  
"I do. I did. Tony will be renting the space over my garage in a few months."  
"So what's he doing here now? Taking measurements?"

"No, he's— Tony, what are you doing here?"

"Sleepin' with Sam."  
"You're renting to a gay couple?"  
"Sam is my daughter and she was nervous about her first night in a new place, so I said I'd stay over." He looked at Angela, taking in that that she was in a tight black dress with sparkles on it. "Um, your mother said you wouldn't mind."  
"Well, I don't but, um, this is a little awkward."

"Wait, you and your daughter are staying in the garage?" Grant said, puzzled.  
"No, Samantha is in my old sewing room."  
"Angela, you sew?" Grant looked as surprised as Tony had been.

"No," Mrs. Bower said, "that's why it's a bedroom now."

"Not that it's any of your business, you bozo."

"Tony, this bozo is my boss!"

He hadn't realized that she was "married to her career" in that sense. "Your boss? I thought they chased you round your desk, not around your stove!"

Then Mrs. Robinson waltzed into the kitchen, wearing what was probably her daughter's lacy robe and nightie. "Did you catch him, Tony?"

"Mother!" Mrs. Bower sounded shocked yet angry.

"Oh, hello, Dear. Did you see the intruder?"

"I'm afraid I'm the one who's intruding," Grant said frostily. "Goodnight, Angela!"  
"Grant! Wait!" She glared at both Tony and her mother and then ran after her boss/date.

"I told you I heard something."

Tony shook his head. It wasn't Mona's fault. He just hoped he hadn't messed things up for Sam. And he really hoped Sam, and Jonathan, had slept through all this.

"I guess I'll be heading home now."  
It figured. She wouldn't want to stay around and deal with her daughter's anger. Tony wasn't crazy about it himself, but maybe he could calm Mrs. Bower down. "Don't you think you should change first? You wouldn't want to go out in public like that at this hour."  
She shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time." He had no doubt of that. But she did head up to Mrs. Bower's room.

He went into the living room and sat waiting for Mrs. Bower to come back. He wondered if she'd left with that Grant guy. It was probably a lot quieter and less crowded at Grant's place.

She came in a few minutes later and glared at him. "You're still here."  
"I wanted to talk to you. I'm real sorry about the baseball bat and everything." He set it on the coffee table. "But you can see why I jumped to conclusions."  
"I'm not mad about that. I'm mad about those remarks you made about me dating my, my boss."

"I hope I didn't cost you your job."  
"No, but I might have lost a big promotion."  
"Hey, you're a smart lady. You don't have to do this to get ahead."  
"I'm not! I'm going out with him because he's, he's great looking, he's fun to be with, and he's a great dancer."

Grant didn't seem more than nice-looking and he hadn't seemed that much fun, unless rolling on broken dishes was your cup of tea. "So he's got twinkle-toes. What's the promotion?"

"Grant's been moved up to Chairman of the Board. He's going to recommend a new president this week, and I've got a good shot at it. Or at least I did."

"Hey, no problem. You can be President someplace else."

"Just like that, huh?

"Yeah."

"Go down to the president's hiring hall and wait till something breaks."

"Why not? I bet you could start your own agency if you wanted to."  
"Well, thanks, but I've put in a lot of time and effort at Wallace & McQuade. Especially since my husband left me. It's taken me a long time to get this far, and I'd really like to go all the way."

"Yeah, I know, I saw!

"Nothing was going to happen here! And why should it when we can wait for this weekend at the man's perfectly good house upstate?"  
"Aha!"

"Tony. I'm going to say this very slowly: my weekend has nothing to do with my promotion."

"You'll never know unless you don't go!"

"Well, I think I'll be going home now."

Mrs. Robinson had crept down the stairs. Tony wondered how long she'd been listening.

"Thank you for changing out of my nightclothes, Mother," Angela said icily.

"You want me to give back your sweats?" Tony offered.

"Oo, if you're sleeping in the nude, maybe I'll stick around."

"Mother, go home. Tony, you can sleep on the couch."

"Don't trust yourself sleeping on the same floor with him, huh?" Mrs. Robinson asked her daughter in a loud whisper.

"Goodbye, Mother."  
"Bye, Dear. Tony, see you tomorrow for breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Mrs. Bower said.

"Tony is a wonderful cook. I think you should fire Mrs. Hitler and make him your housekeeper."

Despite her anger, Mrs. Bower seemed to find this funny, and Tony couldn't blame her. He was good at housework and cooking, especially since Marie died, but the last thing he wanted to do was be the career lady's maid.

"Yeah," he said with a snort, "I can just see me in an apron."  
Mrs. Robinson looked like she was going to say something lewd, like "And nothing else?", but her daughter shooed her out the front door.

"So I can stay?" he asked after Mrs. Bower shut the door. "Can Sam at least stay?"  
"None of this is Sam's fault. And as for you, you'll be leaving tomorrow for St. Louis anyway, right?"  
"Yeah. Right. But what about the apartment?"

Mrs. Bower sighed. "We'll discuss this tomorrow. After breakfast."  
He smiled. "I gotta warn you. It won't be just juice and coffee."  
"I think I can survive your cooking for one meal. Goodnight, Tony."  
"Goodnight, Mrs.— Angela."


	6. First Morning

Sam slept through the night, although she wrapped a pillow around her head so she wouldn't hear her dad's snores. She was a little surprised that he wasn't there when she woke up, but he was a morning person and he'd probably gone jogging or maybe was making her breakfast.

She sat up and looked around the room. It really was a nice room. A little sissy but she'd put up pennants of her favorite teams and make it more like her bedroom and less like Mrs. Bower's sewing room. And it was a great house, better than she'd imagined. Big and fancy but not in a scary way. Sam would miss stickball but Dad said he'd put up a basketball hoop the next time he was around.

It was going to be weird living here without him, among strangers. The Rossinis were so much like family. The Bowers weren't even Italian! But Jonathan was a cute little kid, just the right age to boss around and to play with. Yeah, kind of nerdy, but that was OK.

Sam hadn't met Mrs. Bower yet but Dad said she was nice, and that was good enough for Sam. Mrs. Robinson wasn't at all what Sam had pictured Jonathan's grandmother as. She was a stacked redhead who seemed kind of flirty with Dad.

Suddenly, Sam had an awful thought. What if Dad sneaked out of this room last night and got with Mrs. Robinson? Women did find him irresistible, from what Sam had observed. Sam's friends, like Charlie, sometimes teased her about it, but Sam didn't mind. She was kind of proud to have such a popular dad. And, really, it was better than him getting serious about one woman. Sam missed her mom but she didn't want a stepmom telling her what to do. Her dad was parental enough for two.

Anyway, if Dad did do something with Mrs. Robinson, hopefully Mrs. Bower wouldn't find out, because from the sound of it, she would not be happy. And Sam didn't want anything to interfere with living here. She was even prepared to be nice to the housekeeper, who sounded awful.

Sam cautiously poked her head out into the hallway. She didn't see anyone. She might as well get a shower while she still had a chance, before everything hit the fan.

The bathroom was nice, too. The towels were soft and fluffy, the water warm. Mrs. Robinson had told them that Mrs. Bower had a bathroom of her own, off of her bedroom. Sam would be sharing with Jonathan and the housekeeper, but that was still better than when she stayed with Mrs. Rossini and had to wait in line after all the Joes.

The coast was still clear when Sam dashed back to her bedroom after. She got dressed quickly. She was just going to wear what she'd wear in Brooklyn. If the snobs in Fairfield didn't like it, tough noogies. Besides, Dad probably wouldn't be able to take her clothes-shopping till the Fall anyway.

When she went out to the hallway again, she saw Jonathan. The kid was wearing an argyle V-neck sweater! He was like a middle-aged midget. She definitely wasn't going to dress like a Preppie, no matter how long she stayed in Fairfield.

He came over and whispered to her, "Sam, did you hear what happened last night?"

"No, what?" she asked eagerly. He was an unexpected source of gossip and, tomboy though she was, Sam loved gossip.

"Well, I didn't hear everything, but I heard your dad running downstairs and then when I got out of bed to see what was going on, my grandma was sneaking downstairs."  
"OK." Sam didn't know what to make of that.

"So I followed her without her seeing me and I watched from the top of the stairs but I couldn't really see or hear anything."

"Oh." Well, this was disappointing, but the kid was only seven, and you couldn't expect much from him.

"And then Grandma came back, so I hid in the bathroom, but then I heard her going downstairs and I followed again, and this time she was on the staircase when I was on the top of the stairs and I could hear my mom and your dad talking."

"Oh! What did they say?"  
"Well, I didn't understand all of it, but I guess your dad doesn't like that my mom is going to spend the weekend upstate. And I don't either because I'll have to be here with Mrs. Hiller. But maybe it'll be nicer with you here."

"Thanks. What was my dad's problem with it? He's gonna be in St. Louis anyway."  
"I don't know. but it's something to do with my mom's promotion."  
"Promotion?"  
"Yeah, that's what they say in advertising. I guess he's worried that she won't promote his commercial enough if she's out of town, but she doesn't work every weekend anyway."  
"Oh." Sam was more confused than ever. "Come on, Kid, let's go downstairs and have breakfast."  
"What do you think your Dad will make?"  
"Probably eggs. He says they're brain food and they're good on schooldays." He'd be taking her and Jonathan to school in the van after breakfast, so that she could get registered. She was nervous but excited about that. She wasn't crazy about school, but it would be interesting to see what a Connecticut school was like. And maybe she'd make some friends. She couldn't spend all her time hanging out with a second-grader after all. (Sam had been left back a year, so she was only in fifth grade, although she'd be twelve in August. When her mom first got sick, Sam hadn't felt much like doing homework.)

"Yuck, eggs!"

She shook her head and decided convincing Jonathan to eat healthy was Dad's job. That morning anyway. The housekeeper could deal with him after school.

Jonathan indeed did not want the eggs Dad made. He wanted some sugary cereal called Crunchy Crawlers. So Dad threw away the cereal box and Jonathan ended up eating eggs. Mrs. Bower seemed surprised but impressed when she came in. She just wanted juice and coffee. These people knew nothing about good eating. Too bad Dad wouldn't be around more to set them on the right path to health. They probably didn't even exercise!

Mrs. Bower was prettier than Sam had pictured, with long, full blonde hair and serious dark eyes, like an actress on one of Mrs. Rossini's soaps. Too skinny but then what could you expect, living on juice and coffee? She was wearing pearls and a long dark skirt. Her blouse was buttoned all the way to the top. Nothing like the women in Sam's neighborhood. Probably not Dad's type, although Sam was starting to wonder a little about this whole renting the garage thing. Probably nothing was going on with them, but it did seem fishy now that Sam thought about it, suddenly moving to Connecticut when Dad hardly knew Mrs. Bower.

And then things got interesting. Dad referred to "the thing we talked about last night," and Mrs. Bower said she was "going to let what happens happen."

Dad said, "Oh ay, ay oh! If you just let what happens happen, when what you wanted to happen happens, you're not going to know whether it happened or not!" Were they talking about Mrs. Bower's promotion or something else? And then Dad said, "There are certain things that are no good for you, like Crunchy Crawlers and guys who just wanna—"

 _Just wanna what?_ Sam wondered to herself. Because then Mrs. Bower interrupted and said, "Now just a minute. If I want..." Then she looked down and noticed that Sam and Jonathan were very interested in this conversation. And she and Dad started talking about Crunchy Crawlers. But it was clear they were really talking about something else.

Then Dad had to take Mrs. Bower to the train station. After they left, Jonathan asked Sam, "What was all that about?"

"Sex," Sam said. It had to be. Nothing else made grown-ups act this weird.

"That's what I thought," Jonathan said. The kid may've understood more than Sam had thought.


	7. Noses

After almost a month, Angela was finding what her mother called her "unplanned motherhood" to be more of a challenge than she could've imagined. It wasn't like she'd never raised a child before, and Sam was a girl so Angela should've been able to relate to her more. But Jonathan was much more like his mother than Samantha Micelli ever would be. Was it the Italian thing? The Catholic thing? The Brooklyn thing? Or was it just that Jonathan was a good (OK, nerdy) little boy, while Sam was a little ball of fire?

Angela admired Sam's spirit, but it was difficult when Sam was stubborn about doing her homework. And there was the fighting thing. Angela had noticed Sam's fading black eye when they met and talked to Tony about it on the way to the train station. (It was better than talking about the situation with Grant, although Tony had tried to bring that up again, once they were out of earshot of the kids.) He said Sam had got in some fights in Brooklyn, which was one reason he wanted to move her to Connecticut. He had believed the new environment would be good for Sam.

Angela had believed it, too, which was why she had gone ahead and talked to contractors about the remodeling of the loft over the garage. She liked having Sam around, and Jonathan definitely did. Maybe this would all be easier when Tony was there full-time in the off season. But here Angela was again, a mother whose kid had an absentee father. And this wasn't even her kid! At least Tony called once a week and sent funny postcards, which was more parental involvement than Michael had offered in years, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Anyway, Sam got into a fight today after school with Richard Welling, after he made fun of her Brooklyn accent. She ended up with a bloody nose, and apparently Richard was, according to Mother, no longer a nice-looking boy. Angela told Sam that violence didn't solve anything and the best thing to do when someone called you names was to just walk away and remove yourself from the problem.

Then Sam said, "I don't have to listen to you. You ain't my mother!"

Well, of course Angela wasn't, but she was the closest thing to it until Tony got back. Not that Tony was Sam's mother, except that he did seem to act as both parents, when he was around.

Mrs. Hiller exclaimed, "What a rude little girl!" She was no help with the children, beyond cleaning up after them, cooking for them, and doing their laundry. Well, that was valuable work of course, and Angela was glad she didn't have to do it. But Mrs. Hiller didn't do any childcare, beyond sticking her nose in and giving her opinion.

"Yeah? Well, you're a rude old lady!"

Jonathan looked scared but impressed. Angela was, too, but she had to maintain discipline. "Samantha, go to your room!"

Sam looked mutinous but she went.

"Well, I guess that will be one less for dinner," Mrs. Hiller sniffed and went back in the kitchen.

Angela felt like she wanted to sneak some food to Sam later, when they were both calmer.

"Mommy, when's Tony coming back?"

"Well, Sweetheart, he'll be playing the Mets starting tomorrow. And he and I talked about all of us going to see them play on Saturday. Would you like that?"  
"Yeah!"  
Of course, that might seem like a treat for Sam, and maybe Angela shouldn't be rewarding her bad behavior. On the other hand, it might mend fences if they went.

"Mrs. Hiller isn't going, is she?"  
"Uh, no."  
"Oh, boy, I can't wait! Can I go up and tell Sam?"  
"Not right now, Sweetheart. She's being punished."  
"Oh, OK."

The phone rang right then. Angela wasn't sure if she wanted it to be Tony. On the one hand, she wanted his advice on dealing with his daughter, and on the other, she was afraid he'd think she'd overstepped her role. But what was she supposed to do? Just ignore Sam's misbehavior?

She picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hello there, Madam President."

Grant. "Uh, hold on a moment and let me take this in my office." She had converted one of the rooms downstairs into a home office. She and Michael used to fight about it, since he didn't like her taking her work home, but he didn't live here anymore and she could do what she wanted with the house.

She set down the receiver and asked Jonathan, "Darling, can you hang up in one minute?"  
"I can't tell time."  
"Count to one hundred."  
"OK." He did know how to do that.

She went into the office and picked up the extension there. She heard Jonathan's voice counting, "Forty-seven, forty-eight." She hadn't meant out loud and into the phone, but he could be very literal-minded sometimes.

"Jonathan Sweetheart, that's OK. You can stop and hang up now."  
"OK, Mommy." She heard a click.

"Grant, are you still there?"  
"Yes." He sounded amused. "I forget sometimes how different it is dating a mom."

He was used to single, childless women. He had offered her the weekend upstate because she would never fool around when Jonathan was home. She had been tempted but, maybe because of Tony, she had decided to postpone the trip until she knew one way or the other about the promotion. Grant had thought she was being overly scrupulous, but he agreed to wait. And then she got the promotion, so, yes, they went away. It was Sam's second weekend in Connecticut. She seemed to be settling in OK, the fights not yet having started. She didn't get along well with Mrs. Hiller, but who did? And Angela felt less guilty about leaving Jonathan, knowing he'd have Sam's company. The children got along well with each other, so that was one good thing.

Anyway, it had been a nice weekend, a good weekend, although Angela had trouble relaxing, worrying about Mrs. Hiller. Maybe she should've asked her mother to look after the kids that weekend, but she was still annoyed with Mother for barging in Tony's first night. And Tony shouldn't even have been there! Things would've gone much smoother with Grant if he hadn't been. And maybe she would've slept with Grant before the promotion. Oh, maybe it was best the way things had worked out, but there were all these complications in her life since she'd met Tony Micelli.

"You still there?" Grant prompted.

"Yes, sorry. What's up?"  
"Well, I missed seeing you today, since you worked from home."

"Well, there were some things I had to take care of, of a domestic nature. But I got the insurance company storyboard all done."

"Yeah? Would you like to bring it by so I can take a look at it?"  
"To New York?"

"No, I'll be staying at my place upstate."  
That was an hour and a half away, about as far as New York, although probably less traffic.

"Gee, I don't know."  
"You don't have to stay overnight. Unless you want. But we could get dinner together. Look over the storyboard."

She thought of Sam. That would be three hours just going to and from, and this did not seem like a good night to spend away from home for very long.

"I've still got some domestic issues. Would you mind having dinner in Fairfield?"

"Cooked by your domestic? No thanks."  
"No, we could go to a restaurant." Maybe it would do her good to take a break for an hour or so from Samantha. Grant usually cheered her up. Then she could come home and talk things out with Sam.

"OK, you make the reservation and I'll be by after I finish up at work. How about sixish?"  
"Great, see you then."

She'd have to let Mrs. Hiller know. Poor Jonathan would have to eat without Sam, but maybe Angela would bring them doggy bags.

Oh, and she'd have to change into something suitable for dinner with Grant. Not dancing though, she didn't want to be out that late.

When she went upstairs, she almost knocked on Sam's door, but she didn't know what to say. Yes, it was better to wait till she got back later.


	8. A Visit to Brooklyn

Jonathan was nervous and excited at the same time. He was going to Brooklyn! Sam had made it sound so great that he begged to go with her when she ran away. He wasn't running away. He liked home, except for Mrs. Hiller. But he thought it would be fun to spend the night in Sam's old neighborhood.

He would never have known how to get there on his own. The most he'd ever done was take the school bus when Mom or Tony couldn't drive him. (Mrs. Hiller never would, but that was OK.) Sam knew all the trains and buses they needed to take.

Jonathan wanted to leave a note, but Sam said she didn't want Mrs. Bower (Mom) or Mrs. Hiller (witch) coming after her.

"How long are we going away for?"

"Me? Forever. You can go back in the morning if you want."  
Jonathan wondered if he'd ruin his chances for the Punctuality Award. There were only a few weeks left of second grade and he had a perfect record so far. Well, this was more exciting than punctuality.

Sam tried to talk him out of going. She even tried to push him off the train before it was going, but then she grabbed him before he could fall.

And when they got to Brooklyn, she said, "I should just ditch you and let you find your way home, but you wanna play some stickball?"

"Yeah!" he yelled, even though he didn't know how to play. She was nice about teaching him. And when her friends called him a runt, she stuck up for him. He thought she might get in another fight, but she didn't. That was just how people talked in Brooklyn. Well, sometimes they fought, too.

She introduced him to Mrs. Rossini, who scolded them but hugged them and made them a delicious dinner. She wanted them to call home but Sam said that Mrs. Bower wouldn't be there. Jonathan didn't say that Mom had told him she'd be gone for only an hour or so. She was probably back by now. He hoped she wasn't worrying. Maybe he'd call later, after Sam went to sleep, just to let her know he'd be coming home tomorrow and she shouldn't worry.

After dinner, they watched TV. It was Wednesday, so Joe Rossini and Joe, Sr. wanted to watch _The Fall Guy._

Joe, Jr. went over at Marty's Melody Room, which Jonathan thought was for singing, but Sam said it was just a bar. Joe, Jr. came back a few minutes later and said, "Hey, Sam, your old man's in town."  
"Did you rat me out?" Sam asked.

"Nah, but I think you'd better go over and talk to him."  
"They let kids go to bars?" Wow, Brooklyn was even tougher than Jonathan thought!

"Not unaccompanied by an adult," Joe said.

"You want me to go with her?" Joe, Jr. asked.

"I'll go," Mrs. Rossini said.

"Can I go, too?" Jonathan asked. "Please."  
"OK," Sam said, "but you're picking up the tab. Kidding!" she added when Mrs. Rossini glared at her.

So Jonathan, Sam, and Mrs. Rossini went to Marty's Melody Room, where they found not only Tony but Jonathan's mom. And she was fighting with a waitress! Not just yelling, but rolling around on the floor and hitting. Tony and another man were trying to pull them apart.

Sam grinned and said, "Hello, Mrs. Bower."

Jonathan just stood there speechless.

...

Grant was trying to be patient with this situation. He'd known this wouldn't be as easy as the relationships he was used to. It wasn't just that they worked for the same agency, that she was his employee. It was also that she was a mother of a young boy and she was legally separated from a man who was absent most of the time anyway. And now this weird set-up where she was renting a room to the daughter of a deodorant pitchman. And the athlete would be moving into Angela's garage apartment at some future date, maybe that summer, maybe not till fall, depending on the remodeling. And Grant knew, from having his upstate house redone, that that always took longer than planned.

It was very hard for Grant to be patient that evening. He'd given in and agreed to just dinner, and in Fairfield, since she was having some disciplinary problems with the tenant's little girl. They had a pleasant dinner, discussing the insurance company account and less business-like matters. They were just about to order dessert, when she got a call from her housekeeper. Both the little girl and Angela's son had disappeared! Grant knew that the housekeeper wasn't great, but how could she lose two children? And they must've taken off after Angela left with Grant. Instead of being contrite, it sounded like the housekeeper was mostly annoyed that she was herself being inconvenienced.

"She actually said, 'Now no one is home to eat the dinner I slaved over.' "

"Angela, why don't you just fire her?"  
"I don't know. I guess I'm afraid I'll get somebody worse."

"Is that possible?"

Angela shook her head. "Never mind that. What am I going to do about the kids?"

Grant didn't want to seem unsympathetic. He could see how upset she was. But he didn't like being dragged into this.

"Well, how far could they have run away? It's not like Sam is old enough to drive, right?"

"No, but she knows the buses and trains— Oh, Grant, what if they went to New York?"

"You're kidding, right?"  
"No, maybe Sam is homesick for Brooklyn."  
"Why?" He couldn't imagine anyone choosing to live there.

"It's her home. Or it was."

"Yeah, but why take Jonathan with her?"  
"I don't know. Oh, I wish I knew the names and numbers of the people the Micellis know down there."

"I guess you're just going to have to go down there yourself," he joked.

But she took him seriously. And the next thing he knew he was paying the check and tipping everyone, including the dessert waiter, and then he was driving Angela to Brooklyn. At least the traffic wasn't bad in that direction. Yes, he could've let her make her own way to New York, but she was upset and he was her boyfriend and it seemed like something he was supposed to do. He just hoped she'd show her gratitude later.

When they got to Brooklyn and to Tony's very run-down old neighborhood, he asked, "So where exactly are you expecting to find them?"

"I'm not sure. But there's a family who used to look after Sam when Tony was on the road. Rosano or something like that."

"Great, we'll just knock on every door and ask if they know a family named something like 'Rosano.' "

"Oo, I've got an idea! There's Marty's Melody Room!"

"You want to do karaoke?"

"No, it's a bar, Tony's favorite bar."

Grant almost said, "Why am I not surprised?", but insulting Tony was counter-productive.

Angela continued, "I bet they know him and the Rose-whatevers there and can help us."

Grant was dubious about that, but he knew how determined Angela could be. And he couldn't let her go into a place like that alone. He parked the car in an alley, hoping his Benz would be safe for however long this took. Then he escorted her into the bar.

The first thing they saw in there was Tony flirting with a waitress in a miniskirt.

"I thought you said he was still on the road till tomorrow."  
"I guess he got back early. Tony!"

Tony turned. "Angela, what are you doing here?"

"Boy, what a clingy landlady you got!" said the waitress.

"Easy, Theresa," Tony said.

"Tony, I wouldn't be here if it weren't an emergency."  
The waitress put her hands on her hips. "Why, you too good for Marty's?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Yeah? What about explaining those shoulder pads? Are you a linebacker?"

"Angela, maybe we should go," Grant suggested.

"Not until I talk to Tony."  
"You couldn't wait till he got back to your house with the white picket fence?"

"Will you please butt out?" Angela snapped at the waitress.

"Make me!"

And then, to Grant's disbelief, the two women got in a shoving match, which turned into a cat fight, pulling each other's hair and rolling around on the floor.

"This is kind of hot but we should probably break it up," Tony remarked to Grant, who agreed on both counts. So they pulled the two women apart, trying not to get hit themselves.

"Hello, Mrs. Bower."

Grant looked over and saw Angela's son standing in the doorway with an older girl and a middle-aged lady. The girl was apparently the one who had spoken, since she had a big grin and a nose that looked like it'd recently been punched.

There were a lot of explanations, over leftovers at Mrs. Rossinis' kitchen table. (The living/dining room was too noisy because Mrs. Rossinis' family was watching TV.) Grant felt very out of place but he didn't want to just abandon Angela in Brooklyn.

The Bowers and Micellis hashed things out and Sam promised not to fight anymore, while Angela promised to be more understanding. And Tony promised to be as involved as he could, despite being on the road so much.  
"Will you come back to Fairfield tonight, Dad?"  
"Uh, no, Sweetheart, I've got plans here in town." Jonathan was probably the only one at the table that didn't know that those plans probably involved Theresa, but no one said anything about that. Tony continued, "But I'll stay over Saturday night, after the game, till I have to head back on Sunday for that game."

Grant didn't like the sound of that. Angela had told him that Tony had slept on the couch before, but Grant had seen that Tony slept in only sweat pants. Not that Angela would be susceptible to a musclebound jock, but it did make Grant uncomfortable. Still, it wasn't like he and Angela were exclusive. And the children would be around, and the awful housekeeper this time, so probably that was enough chaperoning.

He couldn't help hoping that the remodeling of the garage apartment would go faster. Better to have Tony out of the main house if he had to be in Angela's neighborhood.

Grant drove Angela and the two kids back to her place. He got a goodnight kiss and thanks for all his help. He hoped he'd get more of a reward later.

...

Author's Note: It looks like karaoke didn't come to the US till the '90s. Oh, well, this is an alternative reality. ;-)


	9. Surprise Visit

"Thank you very much for the ride, Professor Morrell."

"Hey, no problem, Mona, it's on my way."

Mona was taking a summer class in Psychology and she felt like she should be doing favors for the teacher instead of the other way round. But Mona's bike got a flat tire on the way to Angela's and Professor Morrell saw her and offered a lift. Normally, Mona would've been heading home, but Mrs. Hitler was going into Hartford for a clearance sale at Sponge City and she'd be gone part of the afternoon. With the elementary school out, the kids spent most of their time outside playing, but Angela wanted someone home just in case. (Angela was still afraid of Sam getting into another fight, although things were relatively peaceful the last few weeks.)

When they got to the house, Mona saw a familiar blue van and exclaimed, "Hey, Tony's back!"  
"Tony?"  
"Yeah, Tony Micelli. He's sort of my tenant-in-law. His daughter rents a room in my daughter's house."  
"Tony Micelli, the ball player?"  
"You've heard of him?"

"Yeah, he plays second base for the Cardinals."  
"Would you like to meet him?"

"Yeah, I'd love to."

There might be a way to return the favor after all. And Morell and Micelli did seem to hit it off. It turned out she was an Italian from New York, too.

"Hey, there's a great new Italian restaurant in town," Mona said. "You two should check it out."  
"Sounds good. How's six sound, Tony?"  
"Uh, it sounds great but—"

"OK, see you then. Mona, I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Thanks again for the ride, Professor."  
"Any time."

After Professor Morrell drove off and Mona and Tony went into the house, he said, "I didn't know you were a matchmaker."

She realized suddenly that this was not going to help Tony get together with Angela, unless it made Angela jealous. But it wasn't like this was going to be anything long-term, especially with Tony on the road so much.

"Hey, what are you doing in town? You're not playing the Mets again, are you?"

"Nah, I got a couple days off between the games out West and the next ones in St. Louis, so I thought I'd surprise everyone. Where's Sam?"

"Probably playing with Jonathan in the park."  
"Oh. And now I've got this date and I won't be able to make dinner for everyone."

"I don't think Mrs. Hiller would let you anyway."  
Tony looked around uneasily. "She's not here right now, is she?"

"No, she's in Hartford and won't be back till it's time to make dinner."

"Oh."  
"And you can see Sam before she goes to sleep. I don't want you keeping my teacher out too late on a school night. Just late enough."  
"Oh, I get it now. You want an A in class."  
"Well, don't strain yourself."  
He laughed.

"Come in the kitchen, I want to make you a high-potency energy drink."  
"Uh, thanks."

...

Tony thought it tasted awful, especially with the oyster, but he drank half of it.

"Now you'll be ready for your date."  
"You want an A+, huh?"  
"That would be nice. Now what else can we do to prepare you?"  
"Hey, Mona, I've been doing just fine dating for almost twenty years."  
"Yes, but you've been on the road, traveling, playing baseball. I bet you're tired and achy."  
"Well, yeah."  
"You need a nice hot bath."  
"That would be nice. But the kids' bathroom just has a shower. And the one in my apartment is under construction."

"Why don't you use Angela's?"  
"You don't think she'll mind?"

"No, I'm sure it'll be fine. And she won't be home from work for a couple hours, so I'll talk to her about it when she gets home."  
"OK, thanks, Mona." It would be good to be all clean and relaxed for his date. He did feel a little guilty about not spending the evening with his daughter, but she'd understand. And he'd have tomorrow and most of Wednesday to hang out around the house. Well, maybe he'd take the kids somewhere, get them away from Mrs. Hiller for a few hours. OK, and if he hit it off with Cindy Morrell enough, maybe they could have another date before he had to fly out. He hadn't expected to meet an Italian woman here in WASPy Connecticut. She was nothing like Theresa and the Italian girls he was used to though. She was not just college-educated but a professor! But she also loved linguini, and she'd be different from the girls he met on the road.

He had brought in his suitcase and he would pick out something nice to wear on the date. He'd change in Angela's bedroom, since she wasn't due home for awhile, and it was right next to her bathroom. He did feel funny about this, especially remembering the last time he listened to Mona, but it wasn't like that guy Grant was gonna show up again.

Angela had admitted to him, when he stayed over in early June, that she hadn't slept with Grant till after her promotion to company president. She claimed it had nothing to do with Tony. And maybe she was right. After all, he really didn't think she should be sleeping with Grant at all, but at least she had waited till a week after the promotion. And it wasn't like Tony could get on his moral high horse. After all, he was no monk. And maybe some people would say he shouldn't sleep with his landlady's mother's professor, but he hadn't even kissed Cindy yet, and it had nothing to do with Angela anyway. Other than he'd be using her bubble bath if she had any, one of his secret pleasures. (The guys weren't around to razz him. The smell would fade by the time he rejoined the team.)

Tony went into Angela's bedroom and set the suitcase on the floor. He looked around. Her bedroom was very feminine. Not just pink but frilly, with a canopy bed and a Raggedy Ann doll no less! He wondered what Cindy's bedroom looked like. Not that he'd find out that night, but maybe the next night.

He unpacked his suitcase and set some clothes out on the bed. Yeah, that ought to work. Maybe a tie to class it up a little. A jacket? Nah, too warm. Cindy seemed down to earth for a professor, but she was classier than the women he was used to.

He sighed and then opened the door to the bathroom. He stared in amazement. Not only was Angela in there, but she was stepping out of the tub! She was completely naked, except for the big headphones she was wearing. That explained why she hadn't heard him in the next room.

She gasped, wrapped herself in a pink towel (she was big on pink and her body was pink and, no, he couldn't let his mind go there), and shouted, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Somehow he found his voice, although it was shaky and he wasn't sure if she could hear him through the headset. "Uh, I had a couple days off so I thought I'd drop in as a surprise. I mean, not in your bathroom! To the house!"

"GET OUT!"

He wasn't sure if she meant out of the bathroom or out of the house, but he ran out of the bathroom, scooped his clothes off the bed, picked up his suitcase, and dashed to the downstairs half-bath. He couldn't believe this was happening. Why did he keep taking bad advice from Mona? Did she know Angela was coming home early? Had she set them up for a joke? Or was it all just an accident?

In any case, Tony had to get ready for his date in an hour. Angela would probably not be happy about him having a date pick him up here. Would she kick him out? What about Sam? After all, Angela got very stressed out about Sam's behavior a few weeks ago. Maybe she'd decide that the Micellis were more trouble than they were worth.

When he was changed into the tie and everything, he crept back to the living room. No one was around. He was at least glad that the kids and Mrs. Hiller hadn't been home. Just Mona. Where was Mona anyway?

"Hey, Tiger," she said, coming in from the kitchen, "ready for your big date tonight?"  
"Uh, not exactly."  
"You want the other half of the energy drink?"  
"No, I think I need a shot of bourbon at this point."  
"OK, I'll pour."  
"No, Mona, I, did you know that Angela is home?"

"Is she? She must've come back while we were in the kitchen."  
"What's she doing home this early?"  
"I happen to live here, unlike some people!" Angela was standing on the staircase, wearing a very unclingy purple body suit and a furious expression.


	10. Bubbles

Angela had decided to leave work an hour early. Yes, Mother would look after the kids when they got back from the park, but Angela wanted a little time to herself to relax. She'd take a nice, soothing bubble bath, listening to classical music on her headphones. Then she'd feel ready to deal with Mrs. Hiller and the work she'd brought home. Or maybe she'd take the kids out to a movie, something fun like _Ghostbusters_. She'd been trying to spend time with both Sam and Jonathan, especially with school out, but it wasn't easy with her increased workload as company president. Yes, she could delegate, but there were still a lot of decisions she had to make.

Anyway, relaxation was the keyword. So she came home and went straight upstairs to her bathroom. She didn't even check to see if Mother or the kids were around. She'd surprise them after she'd bathed and changed.

She filled the tub and popped a tape into her Walkman. She undressed and then stepped into the lovely, warm water. She even put in some bubble bath, to treat herself a little more. She could feel the stress and the tension of a Monday slipping away.

She left the headphones on when she stood up and let the water drain out. Obviously she'd have to take them off before she got dressed, but she was almost at the end of the tape and she let it play out.

Just as the tape finished, the door opened and there stood Tony! What was he doing in Connecticut, in her house, in her bathroom? She quickly covered herself with the towel and shouted, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Uh, I had a couple days off so I thought I'd drop in as a surprise. I mean, not in your bathroom! To the house!"

"GET OUT!"

He got out very quickly. She didn't know if she was more embarrassed or angry or confused. His explanation was no explanation. Even if he wanted to surprise everyone, why surprise her in the bathroom? He shouldn't even be upstairs when Sam wasn't home, and he certainly should not be in Angela's bathroom!

And he'd stood there staring at her, ogling her, seeing her flawed and vulnerable. He was only the third man (not counting doctors) to see her naked, and with Michael and Grant she had chosen to be seen like that. How could she ever face Tony again? And how could she rent to a pervert? What if he'd sneak over from the garage, just to spy on her?

When she was sure he wasn't lurking in the bedroom, she went in and put on her baggiest outfit, something that would hide her body as much as possible. She wanted to hide upstairs but she knew she couldn't. She had to confront Tony before the kids got home. Or Mother showed up.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she heard her mother asking Tony about his "big date"? He had a date? In Connecticut? Or was Mother teasing him about dating Angela? Well, that would never happen. She didn't even want to shake hands with Tony at this point.

When Tony asked Mother why Angela was home early, Angela couldn't help it. She shouted, "I happen to live here, unlike some people!"

"Oh, hello, Dear. Nice outfit."  
"I suppose Tony's been telling you about the outfit he saw me in."  
"No, was it another power suit?"  
"You could say that," Angela heard Tony mumble.

"Oh, was it your birthday suit?" Mother didn't sound particularly shocked.

"I didn't see nothin'!"

"Oh, sure."

"I was lookin' at your headset."

"I'll just bet!"

"So Tony saw you naked, what's the big deal?"

"Well!" Mrs. Hiller had apparently come in through the back door. She was standing there looking stern, her arms full of bags of sponges she'd bought at 50% off.

"Are those bath sponges or kitchen sponges?" Mother asked. "Tony still needs his bath."  
"Excuse me?" Angela said and Tony rubbed his face like he wished he weren't there.

"Bathing Mr. Micelli is definitely not in my job description!" Mrs. Hiller said indignantly and went into the kitchen.

"Great, now everyone knows," Tony said.

"Not the kids," Mother pointed out.

"Why don't I summon them home with the news?" Angela flung open the front door and yelled, "Samantha! Your father saw me naked! Jonathan! Tony saw me naked!"

As Angela said the last four words, a woman with shoulder-length dark hair came to the door and smiled. "Ah, you must be Mona's daughter."

"Mother, what is going on here?"

"Well, this is my Psychology professor, Cindy Morrell, and she's here to pick up Tony for their date."

She glared at Tony. "That's why you came back to Connecticut?"

"No, I came back to see the kids. And you. I mean, not you in your, um, let me close the front door."

As he did so, Professor Morell said, "Tony, I'm sorry I'm early. I can come back."  
"No, it's fine."

"It's not fine with me!" Angela snapped. "Tony, what are you doing going on a date?"  
"What, am I grounded because I saw you naked?"

"This is my home, not yours, yet. And what are you doing ogling me the night you're going out with her?"  
"Oh, I don't mind," Professor Morrell said.

"I do!"Angela protested.

"I wasn't ogling. And anyway, you were covered in bubbles."  
"Not when I was stepping out of the tub!"  
"Oh, right, you were standing up. See how little I noticed?"

"That's kind of insulting," Mother observed.

"Mother!"

"No, she looked very, I mean if I'd been looking, she's probably very good-looking, but I wasn't."

Professor Morell looked at her watch. "Tony, we've got reservations."  
"So have I," Angela said. "About this whole situation."

And then the kids came home.

"Dad, you're back!" Sam shouted.

"Tony!" Jonathan cried, sounding just as pleased.

Tony scooped both kids into his arms like they weighed nothing.

And the subject was dropped for now. Tony did keep his dinner date but he didn't stay out late. And Tony and Angela pretended nothing had happened in her bathroom, although Mother and Mrs. Hiller knew otherwise.


	11. Rash

"Well, I guess this makes you two even."

From the way Angela was glaring at Mona, Tony was pretty sure she wanted to scold her mother but couldn't in front of the film crew, the people from the agency, and the client, Mr. Larson of Lankersham Cosmetics. Tony knew better than to point out that he wasn't naked, although he was in swim briefs. And the shower he'd be taking would not be in the privacy of a real bathroom but on a bathroom set.

He was doing another ad, this time for Machismo, the seven-day scented shower gel. The deodorant commercial turned out well enough that he got another gig and he said OK, despite the awkwardness with Angela. He did ask if she minded, since it was her agency, and she was president now, unlike when they met. She just shrugged and said, "Who am I to stand in the way of your career?" Then he asked Mona, but she said Angela was a professional and would pretend there was nothing personal about this.

Another difference from before was that this time he had lines. But they had cue cards for him. It was still hard. He kept messing up. Eventually, Angela gave his lines to the sexy blonde playing his girlfriend in the commercial. Tony tried not to take it personally. And Mona said he'd still get paid the same.

Mona didn't have classes that day. This was a couple weeks after his date with Cindy, but Mona had told him that Psychology 102 was going well so far, and she hoped he'd take Professor Morrell out again, now that he was back in New York. He had mixed feelings about it. He liked Cindy, but he would always associate her with the embarrassing incident with Angela. Also, he was just going to be around through Wednesday, and he was playing three games against the Mets, plus of course trying to spend time with Sam. Squeezing in this commercial was pushing it, but at least Angela knew his schedule and was willing to make this work out. And, yeah, it was more money for Sam's college fund.

So he'd gone straight from the airport to this evening shoot, and he hadn't even been back to Connecticut yet. He'd be sleeping on the couch again, all three nights, commuting into the city for the games. Maybe he could take out Cindy one of those nights, but not this first night. He'd want to relax and have a real shower when he got to the house. (And not in Angela's bathroom.)

...

"Why does Dad keep scratching?" Sam asked at Monday's game. "Is he signalling?"

Mrs. Robinson, Mrs. Bower, and Jonathan all shrugged. Sam shook her head. It wasn't like any of that family knew anything about sports. They'd probably never been to a game before they met Dad. Sam wished Grandpa Micelli was still alive. She missed going to Dad's games with him, even if they were the only ones in their section not cheering for the Mets. It was hard to believe that Grandpa had still been alive and well last summer.

Sam tried not to think about it and paid attention to the game again. Her father's scratching was distracting though.

It wasn't Dad's fault but the Cards lost, 3 to 4. And when they met him outside the locker room afterwards, he told them that he had a rash all over his body. He pulled up his shirt and showed them how red his stomach was.

"How awful, Dad!"  
"You look like a lobster, Tony," Jonathan said.

Mrs. Bower said, "You don't think it's the Machismo, do you?"

Sam was confused for a moment. She thought their landlady meant that Dad was so macho that it was making him break out.

But then Mrs. Robinson said, "Good thing you wore the little bathing suit."  
Sam realized they were talking about the shower gel Dad did the commercial for.

"That's what the team doctor thinks."  
"Oh no!" Mrs. Bower said. "We'd better talk to Mr. Larson right away. Mother, can you get the children home?"

"Of course, Dear."

Mrs. Robinson took them to the train station by cab rather than bus and then they took the train back to Fairfield.

"Will Dad be OK?" Sam asked.

Mrs. Robinson nodded. "Rashes aren't fatal, just itchy."  
"Like chicken pox?" Jonathan asked.

"Sort of."  
"Then Tony had better not scratch."

"Well, I think it's a little late for that. But hopefully they can get him an ointment or something."  
"Why would a company sell a product that's bad for people?" Sam asked.

"They probably didn't know he'd have that kind of reaction," Mrs. Robinson said, but Sam could tell from her tone that she was as suspicious as Sam was.

...

"What's going on?" Jonathan asked with a yawn.

"It's four in the morning," said Sam, who could tell time.

Mom, who was dressed in daytime clothes, shushed them and whispered, "Don't wake up Mrs. Hiller. Tony's taking us out to breakfast. In New Hampshire."

That was weird, but exciting. Jonathan wanted to ask questions but he could wait till they went downstairs. Right now he let his mom help him into shoes and a jacket over his pajamas, while Sam got ready on her own.

"Are you gonna leave her a note?" Sam asked when they got down to the kitchen.

Mom sighed but said, "I suppose I should."  
"Are we still gonna see Dad play later? Can he play? What about his rash?"

"We're not sure. But we'll deal with that when we go to New York later," said Mom, as she got a pen and wrote a message on a paper towel.

Then she led them outside, where they saw Tony grinning in a red convertible!

Sam whistled. "Whoa, Dad, what's this?"

"It's a little gift I'll be returning. Later. Meanwhile, how does Nashua sound?"

Even after Mom and Tony explained, Jonathan didn't completely understand. But the shower jelly gave some people rashes and so Tony wasn't going to do more commercials for the company, and Mom was going to give up the account. And Tony had to give up the car, but not yet. Jonathan gave up trying to understand and he just enjoyed feeling the wind on his face and in his hair as Tony drove to New Hampshire. As for Sam, she rocked out to the stereo and kept wanting to crank it up, even though it was very late at night, or very early in the morning.

It took three hours to get there, so Jonathan got to see the sun come up on the way. He'd never been awake this early, or this late. That in itself was magical. And it felt like they were a family, instead of two families, but he knew better than to say that.

The waitress at the only restaurant open at seven in the morning thought they were one family, too, but no one corrected her. Mom did look embarrassed and Tony, well, he was red from the rash, so it was hard to tell.

"Dad, did you get anything for your rash?"

"Yeah, I put some ointment on. It doesn't itch as bad now. And the redness will fade." Tony had scratched much less when he was driving. Jonathan was glad Tony would be OK.

After a nice big yummy breakfast, Tony drove them back to Fairfield. He dropped Jonathan and Sam off at the house. It was about eleven now. Tony had to return the car, after dropping Mom off at work. Grandma could take them down for the game in the afternoon. Jonathan hoped the Cardinals would do better today, whether or not Tony could play.

But even if they didn't, life was more interesting and fun with Tony around. Jonathan was already looking forward to the visit after this one, but Sam said that that wouldn't be for another month and a half.

"That's a long time," Jonathan said seriously.

Sam sighed. "Yeah, it is. But you'll get used to it, Kid."


	12. Developments

Sam was sitting in the park again. Sometimes she met up with her friend Marci and they'd talk about school and stuff, even in the summer. Like they both wondered if they'd get Mrs. Scranton next month, since there were two sixth-grade teachers at their school. Sam and Marci had some stuff in common. They both had dead moms, and dads who loved sports, although Dr. Ferguson didn't play of course, he just watched. Marci was more into sissy stuff than Sam was and she even had a bra with a little pink bow, although she was flatter than Sam. Sam saw the bra at Marci's slumber party last week.

Marci didn't like sports, but sometimes Sam could find boys to play with. She'd brought along a football today, just in case. Jonathan was busy adding to his bug collection, but maybe Sam would draft him if no one showed up.

Then she saw Bobby Walsh. He had glasses but he wasn't a total nerd. He was on the Bulldogs Little League team, which Sam hoped to join next year. She called him over and they talked about Old Lady Scranton a little bit. Then she asked if he wanted to toss the football around and he said sure.

So they did. But when she tried to tuck the ball into her chest when she caught it, like Dad had taught her, it hurt.

"Gee, Sam, I'm sorry! Are you OK?"

Jonathan raced over. "Did you hurt Sam?" he said, like he was gonna beat Bobby up or something.

"I'm fine," Sam lied.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" Bobby offered.

Jonathan glared. "We don't need your help!"

"Gosh, you have a really protective little brother, Sam."  
"He's not my brother. He's my, my housemate." It was too hard to explain, especially with some of the wind knocked out of her. "I'll see you later, Bobby."

"OK, bye, Sam. And I am sorry."

Sam waited till they left the park before she asked Jonathan, "What was that about?"

"I don't like people hurting my friends."  
Sam almost said, "I didn't know you had any friends," but Jonathan was a nice little kid, so she just said, "Well, thanks. But Bobby didn't hurt me on purpose and I'll be OK."

When they got back to the house, Sam knew she wouldn't get any sympathy from Mrs. Hiller. Besides, this was kind of a personal injury. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror but her chest seemed OK, just tender. Maybe she should get a bra, for protection at least.

She thought about asking Dad for one for her birthday, but that was a little joke with herself. Dad was going to take a couple days off to make a special birthday visit, arriving that weekend. He'd told her about it ahead of time, instead of making it a surprise like last month. Sam wasn't sure exactly what happened then, but Mrs. Bower got annoyed that Dad went out with Mrs. Robinson's teacher. Mrs. Robinson didn't mind, but it wasn't like Dad was her son or something. Sam sure wouldn't like Dad dating one of her teachers!

Anyway, discussing foundation garments with Dad was never gonna happen. Up until a few months ago, Sam had always figured that when the day came, she'd ask Mrs. Rossini, who was sort of like a grandmother to her. But Sam wasn't gonna go all the way to Brooklyn on her own again. And she did have a local woman she could talk to about it. Not Mrs. Hiller.

...

It was a wonderful afternoon. Angela left work early on Friday and had Mother take Sam down to the City so they could all meet up and go to Bloomingdale's. When Sam had shyly asked Angela about buying a bra, Angela had decided that she'd spoil the little girl a little, especially with her birthday coming up. Angela used to wish that she and Michael would have a daughter together, but she'd given up on that dream years ago. Not that Sam was like a daughter of course. And it was still a little awkward, at least at first, although after awhile, especially with Mother to break the ice, they relaxed around each other more, and Sam agreed to call them Mona and Angela.

Sam took to shopping like she'd been born to it. And it turned out she liked dresses and necklaces and a little makeup, once she tried them. She looked lovely in them, too. Angela was so happy to see her happy like this. Sam was very grateful for the gifts and Angela enjoyed getting them for her.

Angela couldn't wait to see Tony's expression when he arrived tomorrow. He was going to be so proud of how much his little girl had grown up!

...

"Tony!"

"Hey, Champ!" Tony said, scooping Jonathan into a hug. "Where's Sam?"  
"She went shopping with Mom and Grandma."  
"Oh." Tony set Jonathan down.

"How come you're here early?"

"I wanted to surprise Sam."  
"Well, they'll be home soon."  
"Yeah, of course." Then he smiled and pulled something out of his suitcase. "You wanna see what I got Sam for her birthday?"

"Yeah!"  
"OK, but don't tell her."  
"I won't."

Tony showed Jonathan the catcher's mitt with his team's signatures all over it.

"Wow!"  
"Think she'll like that?"

"Yeah! Sam loves sports. Except when she gets hurt."  
"Sam got hurt?" Why hadn't Angela called and told him?

"She said it wasn't much, and she's OK now."  
"Oh." It was probably just a very minor sports injury, like a scrape or something that Sam was used to.

After Tony put the mitt away, Angela, Mona, and Sam came home and Tony couldn't believe his eyes. Sam was all dressed up like a miniature Joan Collins! Angela and Mona thought she looked great, but this wasn't his Sam. What happened to the little girl in overalls and baseball cap he'd left a couple weeks ago? What had these Connecticut ladies done to his daughter?

He couldn't yell at them, especially since Mrs. Hiller summoned everyone to dinner just then. Mrs. Hiller's only comment on Sam's outfit was "I hope that doesn't need dry-cleaning. And I hope you're not planning to play sports in that get-up, because it's hard enough to get grass and blood out of your scruffy playclothes." Everyone tried to ignore her, although Mona did thumb her nose when Mrs. Hiller's back was turned.

After dinner, Tony went over to his apartment, which was slowly coming together. Most of the remodeling was done but it still needed paint and wallpaper and the finishing touches. Maybe this would all be easier to deal with when he was around on a regular basis. Then he could take back the parenting from Angela and be Sam's dad, at least until next season started.

He never had this problem before. Marie was Sam's mom and Tony never questioned her decisions about their daughter. Of course, that was before puberty. And Pop raised Sam kind of like he raised Tony. What was Tony supposed to do with an almost-teenager in the family? He had no experience with that. Not that Angela did, Jonathan was a long way from puberty, but Angela had been a teenage girl, although never a tomboy.

Someone knocked on the open front door and then he heard Angela ask, "Can I come in?"  
"Aren't you supposed to give 24 hours' notice?"

"Well, you're not the typical tenant," she replied.

He wondered if she was thinking of how he'd seen her naked. He still hadn't quite gotten over it. He'd told himself he didn't see Cindy on his last visit because of the rash, but that wasn't the only reason. He just said, "Yeah."  
"Look, Tony, I'm sorry if you think I overstepped my role with Sam."  
He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have left you to do all the 'mom' stuff."  
"I like doing the mom stuff. I mean, of course I'm not her mother, but I like having a little girl around to do these things for. And, Tony, what would you have done if this came up when you were around?"

"I don't know. I mean, she's only turning twelve tomorrow. What's the big rush?"

"She's starting to develop."

He winced. "I don't want to hear that."  
"I know. Probably I'll feel weird when Jonathan, um."  
"Needs a jockstrap?"

"Thank you."

"Well, if I'm still around, I'll take him shopping, how about that?"

"Fine."

They both knew this set-up wouldn't go on for years and years. It was debatable sometimes whether it would even last till the World Series. How would he and Angela get along when Tony was her full-time tenant half the year?

"She's really happy you came back early. She missed you."  
"Even after shopping with the girls?"

"Yes. And I think she's going to love her catcher's mitt."  
"Jonathan told you?"

"My son is not very good at keeping secrets."

Tony almost said that Jonathan needed a man around the house to teach him how, but instead he just nodded and came back to the house with Angela. Sam did love the mitt the next day and Tony was relieved that she hadn't completely changed overnight.


End file.
